I was just nine-years-old and a page to my grandmother who was mistress of the robes, a senior helper to Princess Elizabeth.
My grandmother assured the Duke of Norfolk that I would behave myself, so I was allowed to be the page, although I was the youngest person with an active part to play. Prince Charles and Princess Anne were there as spectators.
It was an enormous privilege and I was aware of that.
My parents had a house in Mayfair and my father had arranged for the Devonshire family coach to come down from Chatsworth with horses from the local brewery and coachmen in uniform to take us from this house in Mayfair to Westminster Abbey.
At some unearthly hour of 6am in the morning, the coach arrived and we set off. There were huge crowds in London and so we got some cheers. The next thing that I remember is that we got lost!
My sword got caught in the lining of my father’s robes and ripped the lining of his robes. Almost before his foot had landed on the pavement, there was a person with a needle of thread. They had thought of everything.
I was whisked off with my grandmother and we had rehearsed six or seven times. Although it was different with many more people, it wasn’t too scary. When the procession arrived, the Queen was at the front and she had train held by six maids of honour and behind the Queen’s train was my grandmother and me holding her train.
I remember going up the aisle in Westminster Abbey and how close everybody seemed. It was quite a narrow space.
The service proceeded and the most difficult thing I had to do was holding the train behind my grandmother during one part of the ceremony. You have to keep the pressure on the train the same, but then my grandmother had to walk backwards. I had to get my hand so that she didn’t fall over which was quite nerve-wrecking.
I remember the noise when the Queen was crowned and the crown was put on her head. Everybody said ‘God saved the Queen’.